


Skies'll Be Blue

by Memories_of_the_Shadows



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Awkwardness, Flirting, Flowers, Kid Hatake Kakashi, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Non-binary character, single parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 08:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13760493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memories_of_the_Shadows/pseuds/Memories_of_the_Shadows
Summary: Sakumo gains a taste for flowers after a meeting with Orochimaru.  And it's all thanks to Kakashi.





	Skies'll Be Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song "Happy Together" by The Turtles.

Sakumo isn’t sure why Kakashi is suddenly so insistent on getting flowers for his Academy teacher--he’s even less sure why only flowers from ‘The Sannin’ shop will do--but he gets the feeling that he also doesn’t want to know. If he knows, then he’ll have to apologize for his son, and possibly even attempt to punish him. (That never works out, seeing as his son loves to read, prefers the quiet, and can hide in his room all day, so luckily Kakashi is normally well-behaved.)

The humidity of the store is almost overpowered by the scent of flowers as the bell chimes merrily on the door. “Welcome! Someone will be with you shortly!” a woman calls from the back, and Sakumo sends his son a suspicious glance. Kakashi wrinkles his nose, pulls his scarf up to hide most of his face, and shoves his hands in his pockets, even as he looks curiously at a bouquet of roses by the door.

He hopes this isn’t another attempt to set him up from Kakashi, who seems to think movies like ‘The Parent Trap’ are good romantic advisors. The boy is twelve, and Sakumo likes to think he hasn’t done _too_ badly by himself. Clearly, Kakashi disagrees.

“Are you looking for anything in particular, Sir?” a soft voice asks, and the person in front of them has to be the most beautiful person Sakumo has ever seen. (This is in no way hampered by the streak of yellow pollen on their cheek, the numerous bandages on long, pale fingers, or the wet spots on their apron. Sakumo thinks that they could be dressed in a burlap sack and he would still feel the same way.)

Kakashi hunches over and mutters something into his scarf, Sakumo assumes it has something to do with _why_ they’re getting flowers and promptly decides he didn’t hear a thing. The person’s lips curl into an amused smile, their golden hazel eyes--accented by a stunning shade of purple eye shadow--rolling fondly at Sakumo. Kakashi is a cute kid, Sakumo will give him that, but far too smart for his own good. Heat sparks and Sakumo hopes he’s not blushing nearly as much as he thinks he is.

“Sir?” And Sakumo realizes just how long he’s been standing there staring at this wondrous being without saying a word and wonders if he can convince the earth to swallow him whole. Suddenly that polite smile shades a little wicked and Sakumo _wants_ to see that smile every single day. Preferably with its owner wearing fewer clothes. “My name is Orochimaru. Yours?” A delicate eyebrow raises, that wicked smirk still in place, and if Kakashi were not here Sakumo would already be a puddle at their feet.

“Sa-Sakumo,” he stutters, then shoves Kakashi’s shoulder forward lightly. “And my son, Kakashi.” Kakashi mumbles something unintelligible but thankfully doesn’t try to leave. If he did, Sakumo is sure his skeletal system would go too, and he’s made enough of a fool of himself already. “We need a bouquet for his teacher.”

“ _Sakumo_ ,” Orochimaru downright _purrs_ , and it goes straight down his spine to hear his name from those lips, his eyes tracing those long fingers’ path through long, thick, black hair. Kakashi looks at the two of them and rolls his eyes. “I believe I can help you with that.” His lips are as dry as a desert but he resists the urge to lick them, and time blurs while Orochimaru helps Kakashi pick out something, punctuated only by molten golden hazel eyes meeting his every pause in conversation.

If those eyes happen to flick up and down his body, then Sakumo is just thankful he kept to a training regimen after his honorable discharge. His own eyes seem to be latched onto their forearms--bared by rolled up sleeves stained with soil--fascinated by the play of muscles under smooth, pale skin. The only reason he knows that they have moved to the counter is Kakashi’s hand pulling his arm and Kakashi muttering, “Kami, Dad, you’re so embarrassing.”

It doesn’t help at all that he can see the corners of Orochimaru’s lips tick up in a proud, wicked smirk.

He doesn’t even hear the price, just hands his card to them, and hopes that the lightning racing through his veins when their fingers touch his and linger deliberately (and, oh, he never thought the brush of a bandage could be sexy before, this is why Kakashi clearly got his brains from his mother, his own melt far too easily) isn’t as obvious as it feels. Their fingers brushed again when Sakumo retrieved his card, and again when he took the pretty mason jar bouquet, and each time it feels like licking a power line.

Their eyes, their hands, their lips, their hair, their-- “Oro, stop flirting with the customer and come help me with these boxes!” yells a man, followed by a crash. If Sakumo wasn’t already transfixed, the way Orochimaru blushes--splotchy and high on cheekbones that are definition of perfection--would have captured his attention. There’s still a streak of pollen on those cheeks and Sakumo wishes he could _touch_ that smooth skin, he could _feel_ how warm that blush made them, and smooth away that endearing imperfection.

“Ugh, gross,” he hears Kakashi say, as his son drags him towards the door. Sakumo in no way wants to leave, but Orochimaru has just hissed and stalked his way to the back, and Sakumo has just discovered that he has gotten quite the taste for flowers; he’ll have to come back for more.

Maybe then he’ll be able to say more than eleven words to them.

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely inspired by [this tumblr post](http://blackkatmagic.tumblr.com/post/170889867975/good-luck-also-as-a-florist-do-you-have-any) and a subsequent vision of Orochimaru with a streak of pollen on their cheek, a messy bun, an apron, and a plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves. Yes, that is how I envision all florists, especially since I've watched "Imagine Me and You" way too many times like the useless bi I am. But, no, seriously, check out that post, because it is awesome! Thank you for reading, if you liked it, please let me know!
> 
> You can also find me at my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sachinighte), though I don't really post much original stuff there...


End file.
